


Confession

by soccerislove



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soccerislove/pseuds/soccerislove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Schweinski fic that takes place during WWII. Bastian makes a confession and Lukas ponders on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession

_“I have a confession to make.”_

I told him he was drunk, that he needed to sit down before he did anything stupid. He stumbled once and collapsed in my arms. I’ve never seen him as drunk as he was last night.

_“No, no, I just need to tell you, I need to tell you; it’s driving me insane.”_

His voice was desperate. The way I was desperate not even an hour before that, when I told him my family was leaving. Hitler doesn’t want dirty Poles in his precious country. I drank to drown the bitterness, the resentment. He drank to stop the tears.

_“I like boys.”_

I remember how I tried to laugh it off, how I nervously looked around to make sure nobody heard him. The streets were already dangerous as they were. If anyone heard, we were as good as dead.

_“Luki, I’m not kidding. I really, really like boys. More than girls.”_

I told him that he was too drunk to know what he was saying. I dragged him off the sidewalk, into an empty alley, before he could get us in trouble. But really, we wouldn’t be safe until we were in his room, door locked and windows closed.

_“Lukas, I’m saying that I’m gay. And I have been for a really long time.”_

How could I respond to that? My heart sank as the words tumbled out of his mouth. In that moment, he became just as much a victim as I am. A Polish boy and a homosexual, numbers one and two on the Nazi hit-list.

_“Is that crazy, Luki? Am I crazy? Do you hate me now?”_

I assured him he wasn’t crazy, that I could never hate him. It’s impossible to hate Bastian Schweinsteiger, the boy with the fluffy blonde hair and the shining green eyes who always looks too serious for his age. But when he does smile, _god_ , it’s hard to remember how to breathe.

 _“But it’s weird, isn’t it? It’s_ wrong _.”_

I couldn’t give him any false hope. For all purposes that matter, it _is_ wrong. I told him again that he was too intoxicated, that what he was saying wasn’t him.

 _“It_ is _me.”_

I knew it to be true. Thinking about it now, I know this has always been a part of who he is. I don’t want it to be. Not because it’s wrong, but because he’s in danger now. Now he has a target painted on his back the same way I have one on mine.

_“I know it’s dangerous. That's why I never told you. Are you upset about that?”_

I lied. I said I wasn’t upset with him. But how could I not be? I trust him with my life; did he not trust me with his?

_“Can you understand why I didn’t tell you?”_

Of course I understood; keeping secrets from your best friend is a small price to pay for staying alive. I’m more upset with the fact that I didn’t realize sooner. How could I have not seen it before?

_“I just got used to hiding, I think. Isn’t hiding so much easier?”_

It is easier. I would know. I’ve been in hiding for a long time, too.

 _“Luki, you have to promise you won’t tell anyone._ Anyone _.”_

It was the easiest promise I’ve ever made him. As if I would ever do anything that could even potentially put him in danger.

_“You know the worst part, though?”_

His voice was so quiet, I almost missed it. Something about the way he sounded, so small, vulnerable, made me turn back around and return to his side.

_“I fell in love with someone.”_

My throat was dry. I swallowed hard and managed to ask who it was. _God_ , I’m so stupid. I should have seen it coming.

_“I can’t tell you.”_

I begged him to tell me. I deserved to know. Eighteen years of friendship are not easily cast aside.

_“He’s the most amazing person in the world.”_

It hurt to hear that. It still hurts now. There’s someone who means more to him than I do.

_“I know I can never have him, but he’s everything to me.”_

I tried thinking of all the boys he hangs out with. Philipp? No, definitely not him. Thomas? No way. I have a photograph of all of us sitting in front of me. It’s just Basti, Philipp, Thomas, and me. There’s no one else this person could be. Unless... _oh_.

_“He doesn’t even like boys.”_

I didn’t have an answer for him then. But now...do I? It’s not a question I’ve considered before. I’ve had girlfriends, well, a girlfriend. She was nice, but I remember how Basti stopped coming over when she was around. It hadn’t taken long for me to realize I needed him more than I needed her. Maybe it’s not as one-sided as he thinks it is after all.

_“But as long as he stays with me, I’ll be as happy as I can be.”_

I smiled and reassured him that of course no one could ever leave him. But it’s not true, and it’s worse because _I_ am the one leaving him. My last name, my ancestry, the country I call home, have doomed me, have forced me to leave. I know I have a choice, but which is the right one? Do I keep him in the dark, leave him here by himself without ever letting him know his feelings are returned? Or do I tell him everything and then go? Either way, it breaks both his heart and mine.

There is another option: I don’t go at all. I could stay with him, risk both our lives to be with him. It would be worth it. I could hide until this war, this insanity passes, pretend that I’m a Schweinsteiger and not a Podolski. They’ll never know.

_“When are they leaving?”_

I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t hurt him like that. My family is leaving today and - shit. It’s already 10:00 am.

_“Will you go?”_

I didn’t know. I still don’t know.

10:01. I have exactly 59 minutes to decide.

_“Lukas?”_

He was crying again and the bottle was empty. I guess there’s only so much alcohol can do.

_“Will you stay with me for a while?”_

I stayed with him. I watched as his eyelids began to close, as the quiet sobs slowly faded into steadier, deeper breaths. Eventually I had to go. To tear myself away from his side was torture. Can I really leave him now, permanently, with no hope of ever seeing him again?

10:30. Time is running out. I want to break the clock, to shatter the face that mocks me, mocks my very existence.

10:40. My bags are on the floor, packed. But I’m not ready. Are the ticks getting louder with each passing second?

10:50. I think of his smile, brighter than the sun, the moon, and the stars, of his eyes, always twinkling like they hide the secrets of the universe. I could leave Philipp and Thomas and the rest of this damned country behind me and never look back. But I know in my mind, in my heart, in my soul, I will never, _never_ be able to leave Bastian behind.

10:55. I’ve always known that I love him. I’ve passed it off as brotherly compassion, but that’s not what it is. It never has been. Why did it take so long for me to see?

10:56. I need to get to Bastian _right now_. My heart pounds as I rush to grab my coat. Within seconds, I’m out the door, slamming it behind me as I run. I have a confession of my own to make.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So this is obviously a little (very) different from what we usually write but we were considering entering a creative writing contest with this story (with different names). Unfortunately, we never got around to actually entering, so we decided to upload it instead! It's kinda angsty, which is something we don't usually do, but we hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, this is kind of also a consolation thing because the new chapter for HTW1000E isn't gonna be up for a while, we've just had SO MUCH to do. We're really sorry, but we hope you like this one!
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are welcome!


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